On A Clear Day You Can See Forever
by Keep
Summary: This is my take on what it would be like to enter the wizarding world. It will not focus on HP, but will certainly include the whole gang. It'll end up an OCSS, but not for a long while. It's semi-original, and worthwhile. R & R!
1. The Leaky Cauldron

On A Clear Day You Can See Forever

Ok, yeah so I stole the title from a Barbara Streisand movie… I liked it! I don't own that, I can only wish I owned my sexy Slytherin man, and I definitely don't own anyone else in this story except, well, me! Enjoy!

P.S. I really hate this point of view, but I thought it would be a better way to start this story, so for this chapter and the next ONLY I will use it. After that I promise to go back to regular 3rd person.

The Leaky Cauldron

I'm a smoker. I sort of just became one, by accident. I don't think many people mean to get addicted, it just happens. And once you start, it really is damned hard to stop. The nicotine crawls in your lungs, but it's a familiar thing. When you exhale slowly, lazily, the smoke lingers in front of you, a cloud of vapor. It can be incredibly beautiful on a clear, starry night. However, on a muggy day in London, the smoke just seems to blend in with the scenery.

I was walking along that day, enjoying the view of an ordinary, and in fact quite dreary, English city. See, originally I'm from the United States. I guess that automatically classifies me as poorly bred, uncouth, and a complete heathen. Maybe I am, sometimes. But that's not really me. I'm a bookworm, by nature. I love to read. I'll read almost any book you place in front of me, but that's beside the point. I also love to write, and when I say that I don't just mean sappy poetry. I like to write short stories, I like to write prose, and occasionally my pen produces a half-decent poem, worthy to be read by others. I also like music, and almost any kind, at that. So, even if I _am_ from the U.S., it doesn't mean that I can't have taste in some matters.

As I was saying, I was walking along on this dreary, typically dismal London day when I passed a bookstore. I considered going inside, but the purpose of my trip was to get away from my books for just a little while. It was just an ordinary bookstore, nothing unusual about it all. Down a little further there was a record store, as well, and that seemed perfectly ordinary to me as well. I almost passed by when something odd, and completely out of the ordinary, happened. At one glance I saw only the book and record stores, and suddenly there was another entrance there. It hadn't been there before, I was sure. I looked away, thinking it was a figment of my well-endowed imagination. When I looked back it was still there. The Leaky Cauldron. What kind of a name is that? I wondered. There weren't many more exciting things to do at this time of day, and this place looked very intriguing, if a little worn down.

I headed to the entrance, but when as I looked around me, it seemed as if I was the only one who could see this place. That wasn't right. I took another glance at the passersby. No one looked at The Leaky Cauldron, or even in my direction. It was as if I didn't even exist. How odd.

I stepped inside to find myself surrounded by many people, who all looked normal enough. But… they were all wearing robes. I don't mean the kind you wear around your house; I mean magical, mythical type robes. Was this a meeting of some kind of club? But what club would wear robes such as these? I stared in wonder at the people when I heard someone calling me. At least I presumed they meant me.

"Miss! Is there anything I can get for you today? Miss?"

I looked in the direction of the voice and found it came from a man behind the bar. I walked over and sat down in front of him, not knowing what to say. The emotions running across my face must have been quite evident, for the barkeeper lowered his tone to talk to me some more.

"Miss, is there anything I can help you with today? Are you in need of a drink?"

I looked up at him, wondering if I even looked old enough for a drink. After all, I had only just turned 20 the previous summer. In London, I supposed, that was well past the legal limit. I sighed, and started to speak.

"You'll have to excuse me, something is just a little odd about today. Perhaps you can help me out a bit though. What is this place?" Before he could answer I continued talking. "I mean, I saw the sign outside, and came in, but it was like no one else could see the entrance, or even the building at all. And everyone in here is wearing a robe. Why is that?" Finally I paused, giving the man a chance to answer.

"You… you don't know what this place is?" He drifted in thought for a second. "Have you ever heard of a wizard?" He looked at me with a serious expression, but I knew he had to be joking.

"Wizards? Yeah, they're not real. They're the stuff of fairy tales. What's that to do with anything?"

He looked at me grimly. "I think I can help you. There's a man you might like to meet; his name's Albus Dumbledore. A very intelligent man, he is, and he may just be able to help you with this predicament."

What kind of a name was Albus Dumbledore? Out loud I asked, "Predicament?" He looked at me again with the serious stare.

"Well, it's not as bad as all that, but I think he might be able to explain a thing or two to you about this place. And a great many more things as well, I expect. I could owl him, but I suppose using the Floo is faster. Tell you what, I'll set you up with a nice glass of wine, and a room to keep you away from all this noise until he can get here. How does that sound?"

I looked at him suspiciously. Why did he want to put me in a room by myself, and with a glass of wine, no less. He seemed to have understood what I was thinking.

"Oh no, Miss. I have nothing less than the best of intentions, but if you wait down here, things might become a great deal more confusing. A room to yourself may help you to sort out your mind a bit. I swear on my mother's honor that no harm will come to you while you're in the Leaky Cauldron. My name's Tom, by the way."

"I'm Rhiannon," I said warily. This was all too weird. "You wouldn't happen to have any books I could read, if this is going to take a while?"

He answered both my questions at once. "Well, I have a room that'll keep you occupied until Albus can manage to get himself away from the school for a bit. Follow me, Miss Rhiannon."

He walked out from behind the bar, and motioned for me to follow him. I did so, with some hesitation. We went up just one flight of creaky wooden steps, and then we were in a dimly lit passageway. He stopped in front of a room with the number 13 emblazoned on it. He opened it, and ushered me through.

At any other time this room would have been a dream come true, but at the moment I was still very wary of my surroundings. The small room had one bed, a night stand, another door (which I presumed led to the bathroom), and bookcases lining the walls, and stuffed with books of all shapes and sizes. I turned to thank Tom, but he was already gone.

I closed the door and wondered where to start first. I decided that if I was to meet this Albus Dumbledore person I should perhaps freshen up a bit. I headed to the other door, which did indeed lead to a bathroom, and poked my head in cautiously. It looked normal, so I stepped in. After splashing some water on my face, and pulling my hair back in a loose ponytail I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"Seems to me that your day could've been a lot worse."

I jumped. "Who's there?" The voice had sounded from nowhere in particular. I looked back out into the main room, but no one was there. "Hello?" I tried again.

"Deary, what _are_ you so afraid of? Your reflection can't possibly be that scary."

My reflection? The mirror… I looked into it once again. I saw only myself, but I heard the voice again.

"What's your problem? Every witch has a mirror."

"First off, witches aren't real. Second, mirrors definitely do not talk."

"Well then, it seems you're talking to yourself."

"No I'm… Damn it. Ok, so how is it that you're a mirror, and I'm talking to you?"

"Because you're a witch."

"I am not a witch!" My mind registered a creak from the main room, but I didn't pay attention until I heard another voice.

"I'm afraid, Miss Fraser, that you are indeed a witch."


	2. Albus Dumbledore

A/N: I hope everyone likes this. I was thinking how amazing it would be to live in Harry Potter's world, and especially to meet Dumbledore and Snape, etc. so I just went out and did it! Or rather, I typed it. This is my rendition of what it would be like to find out you are magical, and never have known. And of course, what it would be like to meet the undeniably sexy Professor Snape. There are obvious twists and turns from my life, but you gotta do what you gotta do it you want a half-decent plot. So here we go!

Albus Dumbledore

"I am afraid, Miss Fraser, that you are indeed a witch."

I froze. Obviously it was that man, Albus Dumbledore, but how did he know my name? I poked my head out to the main room, but was unprepared for what I saw. Standing in the archway was a very old man, dressed in plain black robes with a pointy midnight blue hat covered in stars. Stars…. they were twinkling. Actually twinkling at me from his hat. That was impossible!

"How did you know my name? I told Tom that my name was Rhiannon."

He chuckled gently, and suddenly I felt more at ease than I had before I'd even entered this strange place. "Miss Fraser, do forgive me for startling you, but in answer to your question, it is my business to know. Some seem to think that I know everything, but that is not the case at all. I am often left wondering why no one can see the value in giving warm woolen socks as Christmas presents. That, however, is irrelevant to the matter at hand. What is important, Miss Fraser, is how you came to be in the Leaky Cauldron." He left off there, as if waiting for me to fill in the rest, and I did not disappoint.

"I was just walking through London, when I noticed it. Or should I say, it jumped out at me. I had given a glance at the book and record stores when all of a sudden it just seemed to be there. It looked odd, but sort of interesting, so I decided to take a look. It seemed like no one else could see it but me." I stopped and he immediately picked up.

"That is because no one else _could_ see it. You see, Miss Fraser, this establishment can only be seen by those who are witches and wizards. Before you protest, yes, they are real, as is magic. It may not seem possible, but I assure you it is. Normally, at a much younger age, the closest magical school to you would have contacted you and made you aware of the fact that you are a witch by nature. Am I correct in assuming that you are from America?"

"Yes. This can't be possible. You say that a school would have tried to contact me… I don't know how that would have been possible. I've lived in an orphanage for as long as I can remember. They told me that my parents had died, that I had no living relatives, and that the only thing they knew about me was my name. Rhiannon Elladora Fraser. It's an odd name, to be sure, especially for the U.S., but maybe this explains it."

Dumbledore nodded. "I know this is difficult for you to comprehend, but hopefully the shock won't be too much for you. If, at any time, you feel this is too much for you, please let me know, and we'll see what can be done."

I smiled. I was really beginning to like this man. He seemed to be very much alive and alert for his seemingly ancient visage. There was something about his eyes that made him seem younger. "So… now that I know this, what happens? Do I just go back to my life? I don't see how I can stay here. I mean…" I looked down, finding myself embarrassed. "I'm only in London on a scholarship. Like I said, I was in an orphanage all my life. They sent me to school, but the only way for me to go to college was to get a scholarship. The one I got happened to be here, and who was I to complain. The thing is, that pays for everything. And, as I don't really have time for a job, I don't… have any money to call my own." I finished my little pity party by sitting down unceremoniously on the bed, which was rather squashy.

Afraid to look at the old man –no, the old _wizard_ – I stared at my feet until I heard his next words. "Miss Fraser, money is not an issue right now. It is far more important that you learn who you are. Admittedly, there are some elements to your education that are costly, but not so many that it can't be overlooked. I will make a deal with you. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Come with me, and learn about the wizarding world. Meet others like yourself. Learn all that you can, and work to the best of your ability. If you do all these things for me, I shall be more than happy to provide you with the necessities along the way."

I had been watching him as he spoke, and everything he was saying seemed to good to be real. I sat for a few minutes, letting what he had just sink in. "I don't really have anyone in my life to come back to, but does this mean I'll be in the wizarding world forever?"

Again he chuckled. "Not at all, Miss Fraser, not at all. In fact, once you are settled in comfortably, you'll find that you will have many occasions to travel into the Muggle world."

"The Muggle world?"

"Muggles are people who are not magical, not witches or wizards. That is what we call them at any rate. Miss Fraser, let me warn you of something here and now. In our world there is as much prejudice as there is in yours. Only, it is of a different breed. You see, some families have all magical members, and they are called pureblood families. Others have, for example, a husband who is a wizard, and a wife who is a Muggle. Their offspring would be what we call half-bloods. That in itself is not a bad thing; someone who has a Muggle background is no less powerful than any pureblood. There are also some who have lived as Muggles their entire lives, and their whole families are Muggles, but turn out to be witches and wizards. This is not your case, as far as I can tell. I will have to do some research into your family's history. However, my point is that some of the older pureblood families hold more… selective values. Meaning that they do not hold half-bloods, or muggleborns, as their equals. There is no truth behind this prejudice, just ancient grudges held into present times. I warn you now that some may consider you to be among this group simply because you were raised in the Muggle way, even though you don't know what your heritage is. Try not to become upset at anything untoward, for it is just the way of some."

"Mr. Dumbledore, I think I'll be ok, I've faced equally nasty things just from being who I am in the… "Muggle" world. I think I'll be ok."

"Wonderful. First order of business, as you know, I am Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, you may call me Professor, for I was once a teacher."

Professor Dumbledore continued to tell me about Hogwarts, and the teachers there. He told me of Quidditch, which sounded fascinating though I'd be hard pressed to try a broom, and the Ministry of Magic, which sounded much better than my government in America. In general the whole wizarding world seemed to be much more personal than anything I'd ever known. He also told me of Dark magic, and, finally, after telling me the many horrors that had once occurred during the reign of Voldemort, who had recently been defeated, he paused.

I looked up at him, wondering why he had stopped. He smiled at me. "Perhaps you would care to have something to eat with me in Diagon Alley? I'm sure you must be hungry by now."

"Food would be great, but what exactly is Diagon Alley?" I wondered if this was a little street that had a great place to eat.

"Come, Miss Fraser, and I shall show you the first of many wonders you will find upon your entrance into wizarding society."

And the end of first person POV. Yay!!!! Back to third person POV in the next chappie!


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